Worth the Trip

 

“We need to leave the house at 6:30 tomorrow morning,” Barbara told me smiling.  “The Bible study starts at 9:00, and the bus we need to catch leaves at 6:45.”

As I drifted off to sleep that night, I slept lightly, hearing most of the sounds that had kept me awake the first night but that I now ignored.  Dogs barked.  Roosters crowed.  Bus and truck horns blared.

The next morning, just before the alarm went off, I awoke.  Even though the morning’s first light was filtering through the window, I lit a candle to help me find my way around the room.  I quickly dressed and sat down on the bed to read and pray a little.  At about 6:25 I left our room and headed into the dining room to wait for Barbara who emerged just a few minutes later.

By 6:40 we were at the bus stop, but the bus was not there.  Instead, a 15-passenger van was there waiting.  Barbara approached the van driver and asked about the bus.

“Oh, it already left,” he told her.

She smiled and said to me, “Bus times are not always reliable here.  I asked yesterday, and I was told it would leave at 6:45.”

So instead of taking the bus, we jumped in the van.  Before long, other passengers arrived, and the van driver thought he had enough people to begin the trip.  He drove at a walking pace through town, beeping his horn at every location where he thought people might be interested in boarding.  When we reached the paved road and the houses were fewer, he sped up to a normal speed.

We drove through several small towns until we reached San Juan Sacatepéquez, where we jumped off to catch the bus to the city.  We walked about a block until we saw the bus for the city.  At the back of the bus, two seats beckoned.  We had hoped for a place with two empty seats together, but there were none.  We were thankful, though, for seats.  We sat down, one in front of the other. The radio blasted from the back of the bus, so I put my fingers in my ears.  It was so loud it hurt.  Even with my fingers in my ears, I could clearly hear the words.  I intentionally thought about other things since I did not want some of those words running through my head all day.

The bus passed by the market, already in full swing.  Then it wound its way through the mountains, passing makeshift greenhouses, vegetable gardens, and furniture builders.  We went through San Pedro where many people disembarked for their day’s work and others who worked in the capital city boarded.  With the shift in passengers, Barbara and I were able to find seats together, though the loud music made it hard to carry on a conversation.

Eventually we arrived in the capital city.  Traffic sometimes came to a complete stop.  Motorcycles wove in and out among the cars, and pedestrians sometimes took their lives into their own hands trying to cross.  Vendors got on and off the bus selling their wares.  “Three for five quetzales,” one called as he held up small packages of cookies.  I quickly did the calculation.  That was three packages for about 65 cents.  Snack food is certainly inexpensive here.

Barbara turned to me.  “Our stop is coming up,” she warned, so we got out of our seats and headed to the front of the bus.  We got off and climbed the stairs to the overpass to cross the highway.  On the other side, Beth, a missionary here in Guatemala, waited for us in her car.  When we arrived, she was busy studying her lesson.

After a short drive, we arrived at the home of the hostess.  Even though it was only 8:35, there were already quite a few women there.  When another few arrived, Beth instructed the group to load up their plates and have some breakfast.  With my stomach rumbling, I was glad the food did not come after the study.  I checked my watch.  It was only 8:45, yet here we were starting.  I guess things start here when enough people have arrived.

We loaded our Styrofoam plates with breakfast sandwiches, papaya, melon and grapes, filled our cups with black sweet coffee, and sat down.  Soon everyone was enjoying the food and the camaraderie around the table.  These godly women shared their stories of things going on in their homes and churches.  More than once laughter rang out.  Other women arrived and joined the group.  By this time there were twenty women around the table, most of whom were wives of pastors in the area.

By the time breakfast was over, everyone was ready to dive into Bible study.  Out of large purses came Bibles, pens and Bible study notebooks.  For the next hour, we listened to Beth teach and many chimed in with personal insights.  It was a group I knew I would love if I lived here.

As soon as we were done, we headed home again. 

We walked to the bus stop and stood watching the buses as they whizzed by.  When one marked “San Juan Sacatepéquez” approached, Barbara lifted her arm to indicate that we needed a ride.  It stopped.  We quickly climbed on and it took off again as we held on to the luggage rack to make our way to a couple empty seats in the back.  Once again, the music blared.  I did not think it was possible for the music to be louder than it had been on the bus in the morning, but it was.  I turned to Barbara and said, “I need to move forward away from this noise.”  Once again, that meant we could not sit together, but it was worth it to not have my eardrums hurting quite as much.

When we arrived in San Juan Sac, as it is affectionately called, we got off and walked to the bus stop for Cerro Alto.  There were quite a few people already waiting. 

“You need to be ready to move quickly when the van comes,” Barbara told me.  “There will be a rush for the door.”

Sure enough, when the van came, the entire group surged for the open side door.  But Barbara was smart.  She asked the conductor to open the back gate, and we climbed in the back and settled in the back row.  By the time we headed out, twenty people were crammed into the 15-passenger van.  Another four stood on the edge at the open door, hanging on to the roof, and the conductor was hanging on to the ladder on the side. 

As the van was leaving San Juan Sac, a whistle blew.  A policeman on the side of the road signaled to the van.  The van pulled over, and the four men who had been hanging out the door jumped off, ran to the side where they climbed the ladder to sit atop the van on the luggage rack.  The conductor moved inside to start collecting our fares.  I smiled.  Evidently, it is against the law to hang out the open door, but it’s not against the law to sit atop the van on the luggage rack, and it certainly does not matter how many people can be stuffed inside.  Before long we were home again. 

When we started out that morning, I wondered if I would be willing to make the four-hour round trip every month for a Bible study.  But after having been there, I realized why it was that important to Barbara.  It was a refreshing time with other women in ministry.  It was certainly worth the trip.

A Walk through the Village

This afternoon Charlie and I took a walk through the village.  Along the way we greeted the people we met and stopped and talked with a few.  When they asked why we were here, we told them we were teaching at the local Baptist church, gave them a tract and invited them to attend one of the services.  Join us on our walk through the village.

As we leave the house, at the top of the driveway we can see the mountains across the valley from this village.



Flowers abound.



We pass the catholic church.  Every town in Latin America seems to have one, usually in the center of town.  A strong majority of people here will claim Catholicism as their religion.



Children peer out open doorways to watch the “gringos” pass by.  Others call out to us.  Some even try to use the one or two words they know in English.  “Buenas tardes,” I call to a couple girls who respond in kind, and then go running away, giggling.



Anyone need a Laundromat?



Wheelbarrows are put to good use here.  Doesn’t this look like fun?



Eventually we arrive at the church, about a half mile from where we are staying.  No one is here today, but tonight it will be bustling with activity.

On our way back, we walk through the main intersection in town.  In reality, it is the only intersection, though many small roads, wide enough for only one car at a time, are like fingers off the main roads.



We pass dozens of little stores like this one.  This one is larger than most.  Besides the actual stores, many houses have baskets of produce in front of their homes ready to sell to passers by.



The white picket fence, the only one in town, lets us know that we are back at our hosts’ home.



Thank you for taking this walk with us.

Guatemalan Blessings

Midway through our time here in Guatemala, I want to lift up my voice in praise to God who allowed us to be here and who has granted so many blessings along the way.  Rather than give an account of the things we have been doing, I thought I would just list some of the blessings that have come our way.

• Celebrating sixteen years of marriage here.  Charlie found an “I Love You” card in Spanish.  I had brought one from the U.S.  Our hostess went to the trouble to prepare special meals for us, and we had a full day of ministry.  Then our host family took us out to dinner that night.  The following day the church sang a “Happy Anniversary” song to us.
• Flowers.  Instead of paying the proverbial “arm and a leg” for flowers, flowers are inexpensive here, so Charlie bought me some to celebrate.  I’m hoping to get some more while we are here.  Fresh flowers often adorn the front of the church as well.
• Village sounds.  Even now I can hear roosters crowing, dogs barking, the wind blowing through the trees, and birds singing.  The modern sounds of buses, horns, air compressors, and generators are here too.
• Mountains.  Mountains surround us here, and they are a constant reminder to me of God’s care.  “I will lift up mine eyes unto this hills.  From whence cometh my help?  My help comes from the Lord who made heaven and earth.”  Psalm 121:1-2
• Salvation.  How often I give thanks to God for His saving power in my own life and in the life of the believers around me.  Yesterday that power to save was demonstrated once again when a 9-year-old boy asked Jesus to save him from his sins and surrendered to His control.
• A vibrant church.  This church where we are teaching is only seven years old.  It is filled with the enthusiasm of new believers and families growing together in the faith.  Seven years ago, most of them did not know Jesus, except as a name.  Today they are His followers.  The church has become a magnet for young families looking for answers because so many of the families have a very positive testimony of family harmony and closeness.
• A vital ministry.  The missionary pastor and his family are busy.  Everyday except Thursdays they have something scheduled. In the ten (or so) years they have been here, they have seen one church firmly planted and two others get started.
• Being able to serve this ministry.  During our time here Charlie has done a fair amount of teaching and preaching, and I have been teaching teachers, women, and children.  Our days are full, and we feel blessed to be able to share the things God has taught us. 
• A close look at a close-knit family.  It has been a privilege to live with the Avendaño family while we are here.  They have been gracious to us in every way.  When you live with someone for an entire month, you get to really know them, and we have been very pleased to see the closeness they have. 

I could add more, but I’ll stop here.  We are blessed!

Our First Week in Guatemala

 

“Will you be ready to teach on the Wednesday night after we arrive?” Charlie asked me about a week before we left.

“Yes,” I replied, as I put finishing touches on the lesson for that night.  Fortunately, I had been asked to do a teacher training seminar in Chicago for a Spanish church there not too long ago, so I had this lesson almost ready.

We arrived on Tuesday night, well after midnight by our morning rising time, but only a little after 10:00 local time.  The next day we sat down with our host to discuss our schedule for the time we would be there.  We found out that it was similar to their normal schedule, only they were adding a few things because we were there.

Wednesday night prayer meeting is taken seriously. Except for a brief devotional from the Bible, the rest of the time is given to prayer.  Several times during our weeks there Giovanni said to me, “We really enjoy praying together.  I know we are a small group, but that is fine because the ones who come really want to pray.”  One Sunday he told the people, “If you know there is sin in your life, I am asking that you not come on Wednesday night to prayer meeting.  Your prayers would be a waste of our time and God’s.”

Kneeling on the hard, tiled floor with heads bowed and arms resting on the seats of plastic stackable chairs, we prayed around the circle.  When it was my turn, I found it difficult to really pray as I groped for the right words in Spanish.  How I longed to pour out my heart to God the way the rest did, but as I stumbled, I was grateful that the Holy Spirit would take the requests of my heart and make them known to God.  As prayer continued around the circle, I reveled in the fervency and emotion of each person praying.  At 8:00, Giovanni dismissed those heading to my class, while the remainder would continue praying until 9:00.  As I walked toward the classroom, I knew that God had heard their prayers and would act on their behalf.  How glad I was to have this group of people praying for me and for our class as I taught. 

We began the class with nine people.  At about 8:30, another five people, whose jobs ended at 8:00 p.m., showed up.  I was encouraged by their commitment.  I taught on “Basic Questions to Ask Before Teaching.”  At the recommendation of the Avendaños, I had made 15 copies of my outline.  (The next week that was not enough, and by the fourth week, 22 people attended the class.) 

The next day was a “free” day, we were told.  Of course, I knew that on Sunday I would be teaching the ladies on “Teaching Young Children,” so I needed to spend my time getting ready.  This was brand new material for me to be teaching in Spanish.  I desperately needed large blocks of time to get ready, so I spent the morning working.

Lunch, the main meal of the day, was ready by 2:30 p.m.  We sat down to a delicious meal of stewed chicken and vegetables, rice, tortillas and limeade, made from freshly squeezed limes grown on the Avendaños’ property. 

After lunch, as it was considered a free day, we took the Toyota station wagon into San Juan Sacatepéquez, the nearby city.   Charlie was looking for an anniversary card for me, and he eventually found an “I love you” card that fit the bill.  Barbara needed some supplies for home school and for the children’s ministry.  They also wanted to buy flowers for a church member who had just suffered a miscarriage.  I was intrigued by the market, especially the flower vendors who had stacks of flowers to sell.

We made our purchases and left for Laura’s house.  She was in bed recuperating.  The doctor had told her she would need a week of rest, but it was her emotions, even more than her body, that would need recuperation as she mourned the loss of her child.  The flowers were lovely, but she barely noticed them.  After talking with her and kneeling around her bedside to pray for her, we left and returned home.

As soon as we returned home, Barbara left to take her very sick mother-in-law to the hospital.  Later that evening, Giovanni headed out to disciple a new couple in the church, so we stayed with their three delightful children while they were gone.  When they both returned home, we enjoyed a light supper and then retired to our room where I resumed studying.

The next day dawned bright and clear.  The only thing on the agenda for that day was the evening service at church.  That allowed me more time to work on my lesson for Sunday.  Both of us worked since Charlie would be preaching that night.

On Saturday, there was a men’s meeting in the morning and a teen meeting in the afternoon.  Charlie spoke at both.

On Sunday, I taught my class on teaching little ones to the ladies, and Charlie taught the men’s class.  Giovanni preached that morning.  In the afternoon at 4:30, Charlie preached at the service in the new church plant. 

On Monday morning I was back to studying because my lesson for Wednesday night would be a new one.  Not only was it material I had not taught since before I was married, but I also needed to do it in Spanish.  I would need lots of hours to prepare.  Charlie headed out with Giovanni and Otilio, one of the men from the church, to buy boots.  He had heard they were inexpensive there, and Otilio wanted to buy him a pair.  He returned with a beautiful pair of brown boots which had cost about $39.  The same boots in the US would have cost about $150.

Tuesday night was Charlie’s night to teach.  Bible institute started at 8:00 and went until 10:00.  By this time, however, Giovanni had become quite ill and there was no one to translate for Charlie.  Although my Spanish is hardly adequate, I was the only one available.  So with the help of a dictionary and lots of patience on Charlie’s part, we muddled through.

When we went to bed that night, I said to Charlie, “It’s hard to believe we’ve only been here a week.  It seems like a lot longer than that.”  It felt like the longest week we’d had in a long time.  Now that we knew the schedule, though, it would be easier.   

I had to admire Giovanni.  Yes, this was a more intense week for him because of illness (both his and his parents), but this is not much different from normal.  Every week, he prepares for all his meetings and he disciples three different couples.  He has three churches he is trying to lead, one of which is strong and healthy.  The other two are still in their infancy.  He is also the regional director for IPM, so missionaries in other countries report to him.  He has his aging parents living nearby, and he has a young family to take care of as well.   

Barbara, too, amazed me.  She is an excellent children’s teacher.  Every week she was teaching children’s Sunday School and she traded with another woman to do children’s church during the afternoon service.  There is also children’s club twice a month, and she directs that. She also directs the women’s ministry.  In addition, she is an always-ready hostess.  Several times people showed up at mealtimes.  We added plates, scooted chairs closer, and she served them with a heartfelt welcome. People come to her for prayer and counsel.  And, of course, the work at home takes up much of her time.

It was a huge blessing to be in Guatemala.  We look forward to future visits, and now we have a better idea of what a week will hold.

Similarities Between Three Nations

 

Mexico, Guatemala and the Dominican Republic. How are these three nations alike? Here are some interesting features that unite them.

First, they are united by a common language. They all speak Spanish. Yet that is like saying that the Australians, Brits, Indians, and North Americans all speak English. Yes, it is the same language, but the accent and many of the idioms and expressions make them quite different.  

A group of believers in the Dominican Republic

On our first visit to the Dominican Republic, I was lost.  I had been out of Latin America long enough that my Spanish was very rusty.  Added to that difficulty, the Dominicans blend their words together and speak rapidly.  When I was surrounded by the locals, I understood very little.  Mexico, on the other hand, was the easiest for us.  Was that because we've become more accustomed in the last couple years?  Perhaps.  But I think it's also because I hear more Mexican Spanish spoken here in the US than I do the other accents.

Second, they are all in the Western Hemisphere.  This is helpful to us since it does not cost as much for us to travel to these nations as it does to those on the opposite side of the world.  We can make two or three trips for the cost of one trip to Asia.

Third, we hope to visit all three of these countries this year, and in all three of these nations, IPM's missionaries are church planters.

Morning service in Cuernavaca, Mexico

We were privileged to visit Cuernavaca, Mexico, for the first time this year and see the church plant that Sergio and Alejandra Herrera have planted there.  As you see from the previous post, we were quite impressed by that church.  When they came together, they were excited to be there.  At night, the pastor had to shut the lights out in order to get them to leave.  On Sundays, they spent almost the entire day together.  Eagerness abounds in learning new things about God and in sharing those truths with others.  Although they will miss the Herreras when they return to their homeland of Chile, they are looking forward to the process of becoming completely independent.  

Teaching the children in Guatemala

In just a few days, we will be heading out to spend a month in a little town called Cerro Alto, about two hours outside of Guatemala City.  There we will be working with Giovanni and Barbara Avendano.  Giovanni is a Guatemalan who came to know Christ while he lived in California.  He has gone back to the town of his birth where he planted a church.  That church is vibrant and strong.  On a typical Sunday morning, there are over one hundred people there.  We know we will be involved in multiple ministries while we are there:  teaching teachers, training leaders, preaching and teaching on Sunday and Wednesday, and anything else the Avendanos need from us. 

Giovanni has a deep desire for his people to know Christ, so one church plant is just not enough.  When we were there, he had begun meetings in another town nearby.  A smaller group of about 30 were meeting there.  Then, sometime during the last two years, He has begun church plants in another nearby location.  His desire, like that of Paul’s, is that all men would come to know the truth.   

Students taking a quiz in the Bible institute

In October, we hope to head to the Dominican Republic to work with Enrique and Solanlly Mejia.  They have also started a church.  One difference with Enrique Mejia, however, is that he also has a thriving Bible institute where pastors and future pastors gather from all over the island to increase their knowledge and ability to use the Word of God effectively in their ministry.  

Fourth, our ministry will be in Spanish.  I will do all of my teaching in Spanish.  Over the past couple years, I have become much more comfortable doing this, but I still feel very inadequate.  I would greatly appreciate prayers for fluency, especially since I am often teaching new material every time I go.  

Preaching through a translator

Charlie teaches through a translator.  In Mexico, the translator that was available had never translated before.  His command of English was good, but translating in front of a group of people, some of whom also have an adequate command of English, was intimidating.  In the Dominican Republic and in Guatemala, the missionary men themselves do the translating.  Their command of English is excellent, and they do a great job of translating.

We are looking forward to the next month in Mexico.  There is still much to be done before we leave, but we are eager to go.